Planet Earth Revisited, Chapter 1

Once there was a planet filled with many different kinds of people, for the most part confused. Yes, there were some wise people too, but the rulers of this planet enjoyed war games, and had done so for millennia. They spent a great deal of time and energy convincing all the people living there that this state of existence was all due to their natural tendency towards aggression.

At times some wise philosophers and masters and sages would show up and talk about inherent goodness, about miracles, about brotherly and sisterly love. Buddha and Jesus were among two of the most well loved and well known, and their teachings became part of some the world’s greatest religions.

All the prophecies of all time pointed to a day when war would be no more. The dawning of the Aquarian Age or the Kali Yuga Age were thought to coincide and mark the start of this era. Many signs would be given. The prophecy of the rainbow talked about rainbow dream warriors, who would rise from the four directions and main colors of man, and help lead the people of all nations into peace.

A young girl named Astara, born a natural prophet in the small town of Chimayo, New Mexico, began talking to the stars when she was 2. She sang songs to them as well, causing the townspeople to chuckle.

“Oh, she’ll grow out of it. There’s nothing unusual about my daughter” her Mama Carlita began to say whenever they were out at night for local bonfires during the harvest season.

Her Abuelita Lupe knew her granddaughter was a prophet, for she had predicted her own broken hip, tried to warn her to be cautious that day while picking piñon in the forest. But no, she had put that out of her mind and slipped in some mud. During her healing she began listening to Astara very closely and noticing how often her predictions came true. If she could predict something like a broken hip at the age of 6, how much would be foreseen by the time she was grown?

Astara’s father Joseph had passed away when she was just a baby, and her mother was so heartbroken she had vowed to never remarry. So it was just the three of them, mother and grandmother helping each other out and raising their little prophet.

By the time she was 8, her mother could no longer deny her daughter was a prophet, and several times a year the neighbors came to her for advice. She knew when the locusts would come, when there would be a drought, when the winters were to be fiercer than usual.

The people appreciated their little prophet and grew to love her star talking ways. “As long as the stars don’t talk back,” was the common joke.

Then one day she came in to announce that the Pleiadians had been talking to her. Mama and Abuelita put down the green chile they were peeling and listened, for they had learned it was always best to listen to this extraordinary child.

“They told me the times of war are nearly over!” Astara happily announced. “But we must prepare ourselves. Daily meditations, they will come to me and give more instructions with time.”

Concerned for her safety if the townspeople heard of this new form of prophecy, since they had all long ago agreed that Earth was the only inhabitants of the Universe, they begged her to not reveal this part of the message to anyone else. Of course they were unaware that the government had been keeping all knowledge of extraterrestrial life a secret for decades.

Astara reluctantly agreed, and began meditating at 5 a.m. and 8 p.m. daily. Often she would simply sit under the Oak Tree in front of their Adobe home, cross legged in the dirt, for stretches up to three hours.

This caused more concern, but the child had stopped talking about her messages, having noted the alarm in their voices when they begged her not to share it with anyone else.

Then came the night that the spaceship arrived. Blue, purple, red and orange lights projected in a circular fashion from the house-sized disk. Of course it landed right next to their home. They were looking for Astara.

Abuelita Lupe woke Astara up, urging her to hide with her in the cellar. “But no, I need to speak to my friends, I told you they were real, but you wouldn’t listen to me! They come from a planet of peace. They won’t hurt me, Abuelita!”

Together they walked outside while her mama went to hide in the cellar. Two tall, thin purple people came walking towards them. Their faces were long, their hair down to their knees, and they had a third eye in the center of their foreheads. Their eyes shone golden.

Astara began to speak for them, as they were communicating with her telepathically.

“We have come to take you for a little ride, sweet girl. You have shown such great progress we wish to teach you our ways in order for you to help more people to leave behind the ways of war.”

“That’s completely out of the question, young lady” snapped Abuelita Lupe. “I must fetch your mother and discuss this with her.”

“There is nothing to fear. We will be riding through a portal to our star system in the Pleiades. Because of this, she will only be gone one earth week, but will experience what is for you six months of Earth time.”

Abuelita Lupe ran to go get Mama, and together they finally agreed to let her go, although they were trembling in fear and crying until the female Pleiadian walked up to them and touched them in the middle of their foreheads. Then they too were able to hear the telepathic messages, so they knew they would be able to be in contact with the space travelers. And suddenly they also knew that there was nothing to fear. Golden light filled them up from head to toe and all their pain quickly disappeared.

Astara hadn’t had any fear or pain from the start of this encounter, so she quickly packed a bag, gave Mama and Abuelita big hugs, and told them telepathically, “I will let you know what’s happening every single day. And I will teach you what I have learned when I return.”

The two women watched bravely as little Astara climbed onto the spaceship with her new guardians, the doors flew shut, and the revolving colorfully lit disk rose into the sky, then quickly disappeared.

To Be Continued . . .

© Kami Velasquez 08/09/16

All Rights Reserved

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